The one-hour flight from San Francisco to Orange County was relatively painless. The fifteen-minute drive to the luxury resort on the harbor was less so. My stomach dropped with every twist in the winding road along the bay. The closer we got to our final destination, the quieter I became. It was okay. Zane talked for both of us. He happily pointed out egrets gliding over the water and paddle boarders he spotted edging their way around the marsh. His excitement was palpable and so at odds with my turbulent thoughts, it was almost comical.

“They obviously don’t know what they’re doing. There are so many great places to paddleboard here, and this section of the bay is definitely not one of them,” he groused, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel of our rented Jeep.

“What is the best place?” My idle question was a weak attempt at engaging in conversation. I didn’t want to rain on Zane’s parade when he was clearly excited to be home.

“The harbor. Especially the area around Lido Island. Wanna go? We can head over there in the morning if you’re up to it.” He stopped at a red light and turned to me with a winning smile.

I returned the gesture and reached for his free hand, impulsively entwining our fingers. “Would that be before or after surf lessons, sailing lessons, or the hike around Moro Canyon?”

“Hmm. Tough question, but if we wake up at the crack of dawn we may be able to tackle everything.”

“Oh, brother. What comes first?”

Zane squeezed my fingers then let go of my hand when the light changed. “Surfing always comes first, babe.”

“Always?” I purred, moving my hand to his cup his jean-clad crotch.

“Uh…no. Not always.”

“Good.” I kissed his shoulder then sat back in my seat and let the Beach Boys lull me with good vibrations.

This was going to be fine. I could survive forty-eight hours anywhere with this guy at my side. Even home.

* * *

The Beach Club Resort must have had a facelift since the last time I’d been there. The reception area was a sophisticated blend of marble and crystal chandeliers with grand pillars that framed an amazing view of sand and beach and the ginormous multi-million-dollar yachts docked just beyond. When we were growing up, this was a more casual destination for locals. A place to lie on the sand with your friends or goof around on the playground slide stuck in the middle of the bay. There were burger bashes, movie nights, and other tame family activities. My parents had a membership here years ago, but they let it go when ownership changed and the monthly dues hiked to the equivalent of a down payment on a house.

I wasn’t surprised Zane chose to stay here. This was the only waterfront hotel in the area. He wasn’t the type to be intimidated by the radical uptick in wealth on display compared to when we were kids. He spent time in some of the most prestigious yacht clubs in Northern California, around boats that were worth more than I could comprehend.

“If I had my way, we wouldn’t stay here.” Zane plucked his T-shirt over his head and tossed it on the king-sized bed before opening the sliding glass door and stepping out to the balcony. He held out his hand and motioned for me to join him.

“Did you want to stay with your mom?” I made a face before adding, “Or my parents?”

“Hell, no.” Zane pulled me into his arms so he stood behind me. His deep voice reverberated through his chest and moved through me, grounding me to him. “Don’t you think it would be cool to own a tiny bungalow on the sand just big enough for the two of us? Someplace quiet where I could look out the window to gauge the surf before getting into my wet suit. You could read on the patio and watch me until your longboard called. Then you’d get undressed”—he paused to unbutton and then unzip my jeans—“and put on your sexy Speedo before—”

I spun in his hold and rested my arms on his shoulders. “I don’t own a Speedo. And I think you should thank me for that.”

Zane chuckled. “No way. That’s a crime. We’ll fix that later, but now…I want to do other things.”

I sighed when he splayed one hand under my shirt and grabbed my ass with the other, molding his pelvis to mine so I could feel his obvious hard-on. I ran my fingers through his longish hair as I tilted my chin then licked his bottom lip. He groaned in response and slipped his tongue inside. We made out on the balcony in broad daylight for longer than we should have. This wasn’t San Francisco and LA was an hour north of here. This was a conservative mecca where no one spoke about gays. Unless of course, they were talking about the fabulous designer they’d hired to decorate their beach house.

I reluctantly broke the kiss and angled my head toward our suite. “Inside. How much time do we have before dinner?”

“As much as we want. Go on, baby. Get naked for me.”

I moved into the suite, undressing as I made my way to the bed. I folded the white duvet back then sat on the edge of the mattress to kick off my shoes and socks. Zane hummed in approval and came to stand in front of me, palming his heavy dick absently as he stared at me. He looked mesmerized, which made me want to crack a joke because seriously…this was me here. Not some bodybuilder or model or rock star. Me. He’d seen me naked a million times. He knew exactly what he was getting. How could he act like I was so special every single time? I didn’t get it, but this certainly wasn’t the time for questions.

I set my hands on his muscular thighs and studied his hardening shaft as he stroked himself. Precum pooled at the tip of the wide mushroom head. I licked my lips greedily and then glanced up at him as though awaiting his direction. It was a funny thing to do, but it drove him crazy. In a good way. Like he secretly got off on the show of subservience. It wasn’t a dominance thing. He would have died laughing if I called him daddy or asked him if he wanted to try anything kinky like—

“Do you want to spank me?” I blurted.

Zane’s eyes bugged out in shock. He looked like a cartoon character. It was funny, actually, and it went a long way toward easing my instant mortification. I couldn’t believe I’d said that aloud. My cheeks had to be bright red. My outburst was so unlike me, neither of us knew how to touch it. I supposed it was up to me to try.

I cleared my throat noisily and gave a weak half chuckle. “I was kidding.”

“Fuck, I hope not.” Zane pounced on me immediately.

I let out an oomph of surprise as he flattened himself over me, gyrating his rock-hard prick against mine. He captured my hands above my head and rutted wildly then drove his tongue into my mouth. I hooked my legs over his ass and lifted my hips to meet his frenetic thrusts. The lusty sensual slide of skin pushed us into another realm. We were a tangle of arms and legs, humping like mad as we sucked on tongues, lips, and jaws. We couldn’t get close enough. Zane rolled us sideways and threw his leg over mine, anchoring me close. His right hand roamed down my back and rested on my ass as he nibbled my bottom lip. I wiggled backward, looking for friction. Any friction would do. I hadn’t been this near combustion without penetration of some kind in a while. Cock, fingers, dildo. Even when giving a blowjob, Zane wasn’t shy about using his fingers to tease my hole. I whimpered as I arched back, burying my face in his neck. He splayed his hand over my right ass cheek and then smacked it. Hard.

“Is that what you want, baby?” he whispered, licking the seam of my mouth as he raked his fingers down my back and then along my crack.

“I don’t—”

“You don’t know? Or you do know, but you’ve been keeping this to yourself? Come on, Er. Tell me. Have you been naughty? Do you need a spanking?”

“Yes! Do it!” I bit his shoulder and dug my nails into his biceps to spur him into action. I was teetering on the edge. It wouldn’t take much. Just one…

Zane smacked my ass once more and I exploded.

All orgasms were amazing in my book, but this one was extraordinary. It blindsided me, pulling me under a wave of pleasure so deep I lost my breath as cum jetted between us. I clung to him until the shaking stopped. Then I twisted my fingers in his hair and rained kisses over his scruffy chin and down his neck in an odd show of gratitude.

Zane gently pushed me onto my back then knelt between my legs. He gripped his shaft, jacking himself furiously as his gaze traveled over my cum-slicked chest and spent penis. I swiped the precum gathered at his slit and made sure he was watching when I brought my finger to my lips.

“Holy fuck, I’m gonna come!”

He braced himself on my bent knee and bucked his hips as his release spurted over my stomach and up my chest. He threw his head back and growled like a caveman, milking every last drop from his beautiful cock. Then he closed his eyes as though he needed a moment to gather his strength. When he opened them again, he laughed. The blissful sound washed over me, wrapping us both in a gossamer veil of pure joy.

My grin was so wide it hurt. “Come here.”

Zane nodded then collapsed on top of me and blew raspberries on my neck until I shrieked and shoved him. He was too big to move on my own and he didn’t seem bothered by the sticky, sweaty mess binding us together. I gave in and held him close, sending a silent prayer of thanks to whatever force brought this man into my life. Falling for my best friend had been scary as hell, but it was by far the best thing that had ever happened to me.

He pressed a sweet kiss on my brow then fell to my side and pulled me with him so we lay face-to-face.

“Just when I think I know everything about you, you say or do something so…mind-boggling I—I don’t know where to begin. That was hot.”

I narrowed my gaze. “Really? You don’t think I’m weird or perverted?”

Zane shrugged then swiped his finger through the cum on my stomach and licked it clean. “If you’re weird, I guess I am too. As far as perverted goes…bring it on, baby. I don’t think I’ve ever come like that without being inside you. I want to know every little kink going through your head. What else have you been hiding from me?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure? I’m willing to do more than paddle your ass once in a while, but you’ve got to tell me what else you’re into. Want me to tie you up and lick chocolate off your body? Or should we assume aliases and pretend we’re meeting for the first time in a hotel bar?”

I barked a quick laugh, charmed by his easy humor. I lowered my voice an octave and gave him an over-the-top lascivious look. “Hi, my name is Rod Steele. Is this seat taken?”

Zane howled with glee. “Yeah, that game wouldn’t last long. We’d either bust up laughing or end up grinding against each other on barstools or in a crowded elevator. I’m not into sex in public but—are you? Or is it just a spanking or—”

“Stop. I’m already embarrassed. I have no idea why I said that. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? If you apologize for what had to be the best hump session of my life, I’ll get mad. Mad enough to paint your back porch red, ya hear?” he mock scolded.

I rolled my eyes then pointed toward the bathroom. “How about you mosey on over and grab a towel to clean us up?”

“Sure thing, baby.” Zane winked before hopping out of bed, cackling all the way to the adjoining bathroom. He returned with a white towel and wiped our stomachs before dropping it on the floor and pulling me into his arms. “You know, since we’re going to be married for infinity and beyond, you really should tell me every little thing that turns you on.”

“I thought we were done with this conversation,” I said primly. “Don’t we have to get ready to go to your mom’s?”

“Nope. Not when we’re having an important sex chat. Mom will have to wait. So…go on. What turns you on?”

“You do,” I replied.

“That’s not what I meant. I’ll give you an example. This isn’t kinky at all, but…I love it when you wear your reading glasses.”

“You do?”

“Yep. I know you just got them and you hate the frames, but I love the way you look in them. Oh, and I dig when you wear black socks in bed.”

“Huh? Like work socks?”

“Oh yeah. They’re sexy. Sometimes when we get going and you try to stop the action to take your socks off, I distract you so you’ll leave them on. I can picture us doing it in a conference room or on top of the copy machine.”

I snickered at the visual. “What else?”

“Hats. I love baseball caps.”

“Me too. On you anyway. You used to wear them all the time in high school,” I reminded him.

Zane snickered. “That was to hide my long hair from Mrs. Post. ’Member her?”

“Yeah, we were in her European World History class together.”

“Hmm. Well, she used to tell me how much she loved my hair. Every freaking day. It creeped me out. I was tempted to cut it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. Your hair was part of your mystique back then. You looked like a stereotypical Cali kid in every way, but better because you were the real deal.” I sighed dreamily.

“Did you have a crush on me, baby?” he teased, slipping his feet between my legs and setting his hand on my hip.

I nodded emphatically. The question was rhetorical. He already knew the answer. “I did. I remember the first time I saw you. We were fourteen, I think. You were talking to a pretty blonde girl outside the office at school. You were wearing a flannel shirt, holey jeans, and a ratty old pair of Vans. The wind blew your hair into your face. You tried to shake it back but it didn’t work. You laughed with the girl like it was the funniest thing in the world, and I just stared at both of you, thinking it was so unfair that flirting came so easily to guys like you. I wanted to hate you, but that didn’t seem fair when I didn’t know you. And then you turned to push a strand behind your ear and our eyes met and…I may not have known I’d love you one day, but I knew I’d never hate you.”

Zane smiled then laced his fingers through mine and kissed the platinum ring on my right hand. “I’ll call that a good start.”

I chuckled. “Maybe so. Was your mom surprised about us?”

“Smooth segue, Schuster,” he snorted.

I shrugged. “I’m just wondering how awkward dinner might be. I’ve met her as your friend. This is the first time since we got engaged that I’m meeting her as your fiancé. Does she think it’s strange that you’re marrying a guy?”

“You know my mom, Er. She’s totally cool. When I came out, I was more freaked out about telling my friends than her. I knew she’d support me no matter what. We’re the only family we have. I don’t have siblings, my grandparents are gone, and we were never close to other family members. When nothing is going right in my world, I know I can rely on her and she can count on me. Anytime, anywhere.”

“You have me now too,” I said in a small voice.

“And I’m grateful.” He kissed my lips then my forehead before sitting up and smacking my ass.

“Ow!”

“Let’s do this, kinky boy. Last one in the shower is gonna get it.” He flashed a wicked lopsided grin my way before sauntering toward the bathroom.

I listened to the familiar sounds of my lover puttering around in the next room as I stared out the sliding glass window at our view of the Bay and Lido Island. The palm-printed drapes were wide open leaving us exposed to—well, someone with high-powered binoculars, I supposed. It wasn’t like me not to insist on privacy. Especially in the bedroom and even more significantly…in this town.

I’d been out and proud since my freshman year of college but I had to admit, I’d never felt the kind of freedom and acceptance here that I did in San Francisco. But there was something about being with my sexy confident man that encouraged me to let my preconceived notions of this place go. We made our own rules now, and we belonged anywhere we chose to be. Even home.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, we took the scenic route along the boardwalk to the lobby and waited for a preppy-looking teenager to bring the Jeep around. I followed Zane’s lead and opted to wear shorts and a collared shirt, though I knew I didn’t look half as hot as he did. I’d caught a couple of women sitting in the outdoor bar checking him out. I couldn’t blame them. His blue gingham oxford shirt hugged his broad shoulders and made his eyes pop. And when he pushed his aviator glasses on his nose, I almost whimpered. Wow. He was the perfect combination of casual meets sophisticated. The rebel surfer was still there, but he’d acquired a refined edge that somehow enhanced his already potent sex appeal.

I adjusted my sunglasses and did my best to focus on his spiel about the boats he wanted to research while we were in the area and simultaneously keep my gaze on his ardent admirers. I supposed that was why I didn’t notice the tall man barreling toward us until he slapped Zane’s back and immediately enveloped him in a bro hug.

“Dude! This is so cool. I thought I’d have to wait ’til tomorrow to meet up with you. It’s been way too long.”

“Hey! It’s good to see you, Dean. How are you, man?” Zane grinned then thumped his friend’s shoulder and nodded a couple of times in what had to be some ancient “dude” ritual I wasn’t privy to and would never be.

I watched their greeting with an odd sense of detachment. It wouldn’t last long. I’d been dreading this since the day Zane mentioned his name a week or so ago. I’d just hoped I’d have more time to mentally prepare for meeting my husband-to-be’s “first.” Unfortunately, Dean Gorman was better looking than I’d remembered. He was roughly Zane’s height but with a lankier build, shaggy beach-blond hair, sun-kissed skin, and bright green eyes. Dammit.

“Thanks. I’m doing all right. I—hey, you’re Eric Schuster, right? I think you were buddies with my kid sister, Chelsea, in high school. I’m Dean Gorman.”

I shook Dean’s hand politely. “Hi, Dean. Of course. It’s nice to see you again. Tell Chelsea hi for me. I haven’t seen her since we graduated.”

“That had to be thirteen years ago, man. A lot has changed. She’s married with two kids,” Dean said with a smile. “You might know her husband, Mike Sandburg. He played football in high school. Good guy.”

My smile felt tight and phony like I was wearing a mask. This was what I’d been afraid of. I didn’t want to know about these people anymore. At all. I’d liked Chelsea back then but we hadn’t kept in touch and frankly, it made me sad to think of her with Mike Sandburg. I hated that guy. He was an ignorant jock who got off on bullying anyone who didn’t worship the football players. If I had a dime for every time he’d called me “Sherbert” back then, I’d have been a millionaire before I graduated high school. Maybe things had changed but I didn’t want to know. That part of my life was over. Thank God.

“That’s nice,” I commented vaguely, giving a mental whoop for joy when the valet drove up just then with our Jeep.

“How’s your family? I heard you were married with kids. Did I know your wife?” Zane asked as he raised his hand to the valet and pulled a few dollars from his wallet.

“Ex-wife. Michelle and I divorced about two years ago. The kids live with her in NorCal, so we do the every-other-weekend thing.” Dean’s jolly façade slipped momentarily. He glanced away briefly then stepped backward and gestured toward our waiting vehicle. “Hey, I don’t want to keep you and I’ve got to get back to it.”

Zane cocked his head curiously. “Do you work here?”

“Not exactly. I do boat repairs here and at a couple of the yacht clubs nearby. My office is on Old Newport Road, but I try not to go in if I can be on the water instead,” Dean said with a chuckle. “Let’s catch up tomorrow. One of the boats I was telling you about is docked here. The other is at the Harbor Yacht Club, and I’ve got word on another down in San Clemente. Do you have time for coffee before we look at them?”

“Sure, but not too early. I want to hit the water first. I haven’t been on my board in too long,” Zane groused.

“Awesome! I’ll join you. The barrels are sick at the Wedge right now. Meet me at—”

“Nah. That’s too advanced for Eric. I was going to take him to 56^th Street. We’ll be there around dawn before the rush,” Zane said, putting his arm around my shoulder.

Dean’s gaze locked on his hand then at me as though he was just putting two and two together, and the glimmer of distaste in his gaze indicated he didn’t like how it added up.

“Gotcha. Maybe I’ll see you out there. If not, I’ll text you and we can meet afterward. Sound good?”

“Yeah. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Zane smiled kindly and gave him a bro handshake before ushering me toward the curb.

“Cool. See ya. Bye, Eric.”

I waved before taking a seat in the Jeep, instantly admonishing myself for acting, or at least thinking, like a teenage brat. Zane and Dean were friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. Nothing more. No doubt I was just nervous about our dinner with Zane’s mom. Dean was harmless. If only he wasn’t divorced and good-looking too, I mused as I reached for my seat belt. It was stuck. I turned to jiggle the strap and yank it free. I pulled it across my body, glancing out the window when Zane didn’t climb into the driver’s side. He was talking to the valet near the rear of the vehicle. The young man laughed at something Zane said then stepped aside. And there was Dean. His gaze was glued to Zane in a way I could only describe as longing.

Zane obviously didn’t notice a thing. He chattered happily about nothing in particular as we headed north on Pacific Coast Highway. He looked happy and unfettered, which I supposed made sense. This portion of PCH and the bend in the road toward the peninsula was his old stomping ground. His mother lived in the same house where he’d grown up nearby. Many of the original properties in her neighborhood had been razed to make room for McMansions. Even some of the original homes had tacked on three-car garages and rooftop balconies the owners hoped would give them a view of the Pacific Ocean beyond the main road.

Wendy Richards lived in a single-story bungalow tucked between two large homes. It was built in the sixties and though the kitchen and bathrooms had been renovated over the years, the mid-century modern vibe was intact. I glanced up at the giant palm outside the courtyard. It looked majestic against the darkening twilight sky and rivaled the height of the huge homes flanking it. Perhaps it was nature’s way of inserting dominion.

“This neighborhood has changed a lot from the last time I was here. A builder on Viagra has gone to town,” I said sarcastically.

Zane pushed open the iron gate leading to the front door. “I know. It’s ridiculous. Did you see the Italian villa on the corner? That asshole owner screwed with our view of the playground. You know, we could never have afforded to live in this area if I was growing up here now. My mom struggled to pay rent for years. I think the landlord had a crush on her ’cause by rights, we should have been evicted a couple of times.”

“The owner must have raised her rent at some point to take advantage of the monoliths popping up around here.”

“She owns it now,” he said matter-of-factly. He set a hand on my shoulder and crooked his head, wordlessly instructing me to follow him. I started to, but the geek in me demanded clarification. The math simply didn’t make sense.

I pulled at his shirt before he reached the front door. “How?”

“I bought it for her.”

“You own this house?”

“Yes and no. I bought it for Mom a few years ago, but it’s her house. Not mine.”

“Why didn’t you mention it?”

Zane shrugged. “It’s not important and—”

The door swung open and a moment later, a beautiful woman launched herself at Zane. He spun her in a circle until she squealed for him to stop. Then she turned to me and flashed a radiant smile of welcome. Welcome to my home. Welcome to my family. Welcome.

“Eric, I can’t tell you how much I’ve looked forward to this day. Our little family is growing and we—”

“Jesus Ma, he’s not pregnant,” Zane scoffed before turning to me with a faux-serious expression. “Are you, babe?”

I smacked his arm and followed them inside then gave my full attention to my future mother-in-law. It was easy to tell my fiancé came by his good looks naturally. Zane’s mom was stunning. She was my height with shoulder length golden-blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a slender physique. If I didn’t know for a fact she was in her early fifties, I would have guessed she was ten years younger. She exuded a stereotypical California beach-girl vibe that brought to mind every Beach Boys classic in both appearance and her laid-back joie de vivre.

Zane shared once that his mom was a former Olympic-caliber swimmer who’d given up her dream to compete for a medal when she found out she was pregnant with him. She’d gone from being a young woman with big dreams to motherhood as gracefully as possible. An impressive string of nowhere relationships and a job she could probably do in her sleep hadn’t diminished her vitality or her positive outlook. Zane credited his top-tier education and his success to his mother. Although his accomplishments far outshone hers, he always insisted she was his hero and his inspiration.

I’d already thought they were pretty cool, but my new status as “insider” heightened my appreciation and admiration for mother and son. I felt lucky to be marrying into their small family.

“Hi, Wendy. It’s great to see you again and…thank you. I’m excited too,” I assured her.

I should have seen it coming but I was too caught up in gooey feelings. When she threw herself into my arms, I stumbled backward and would have flipped over the sofa and crashed onto the floor with her hanging from my neck if Zane hadn’t held me still. She sensed his presence behind me and deftly pulled him into a three-way hug. As the moment stretched, I wanted to laugh at the greeting-that-wouldn’t-end but I quickly recognized its significance. Standing between the man I loved more than anyone in the world and the woman who felt the same way was the ultimate expression of welcome and acceptance.

Zane brought us back to earth. He squeezed us both then pressed sloppy kisses on our cheeks.

“Ew!” When I elbowed his arm, he doubled over like I’d punched him in the gut and let out a melodramatic yelp. And suddenly, we were back on even ground, no uncomfortable transition required. Defusing potential awkwardness was one of Zane’s many gifts. He knew better than most that taking life too seriously killed all the fun.

Wendy twirled out of his reach then pointed toward the patio. “Outside, boys. It’s a gorgeous summer night. Let’s enjoy it. I just set a pitcher of sangria on the table. There’s wine, beer, and water in the cooler too. I’ll grab the cheese and crackers. And Zane, my love, you’re in charge of the grill.”

Dinner was simple but delicious. Grilled chicken, corn, quinoa salad, and homemade jalapeño cheese bread. Conversation flowed easily about everything from mutual acquaintances to the cooking classes Wendy started taking recently. She waited until night descended, our plates had been cleared away, and I was three sangrias in to ask a few nosy “mom” questions.

“When did it happen?”

I shot a panicky glance at Zane, who didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He lifted his water glass and took a healthy sip. It may have been a diversionary tactic but she didn’t care about his reply; she was waiting for mine. I studied the buttons on the white cardigan she’d put on over her sundress before meeting her gaze with a shy smile.

“Last October. We went to Nick’s engagement party together and something just clicked,” I said.

“Hmm. You’ve known each other more than half your lives. Why didn’t you know sooner that you wanted to be together?” she asked persistently.

“Uh…well…” I looked over at Zane for assistance, but his encouraging grin only told me he was fine with whatever I chose to share. I belatedly realized this inquiry was all mine. He’d surely been through this a few times with his mother.

“Zane honey, I’d love a cup of coffee. Would you mind making some?” Wendy’s overly eager smile usually would have cracked me up but now, it made me nervous as hell.

Zane rolled his eyes then leaned in to kiss me before standing. He shook an admonishing finger at his mother. “Don’t scare him away, Ma. I love this guy.”

We chuckled lightly as he disappeared into the house. I knew her impromptu interrogation would be relatively painless. Wendy liked me and Zane wouldn’t leave me with her if he thought otherwise. Nonetheless, I sucked down half of my sangria and then set the glass aside with more force than necessary as if to say, “Bring it on.”

“He does love you,” she said softly.

“I love him too.”

“I can tell.” She sat back in her chair and curled her feet under her before giving me a conspiratorial wink. “It’s been an interesting journey from a mother’s perspective. I always wondered who his special person might be, and you want to know something funny? I had this crazy feeling it would be one of his friends. Someone who’d been there all along.”

“That probably didn’t narrow the field much. Zane has a lot of friends,” I quipped.

“He does and he makes an effort to spend time with them as often as possible. Maybe it’s because he was an only child. I worked so much when he was younger, so I didn’t mind him having kids over. I figured he needed the company even though I worried constantly about him getting in trouble while I was away. He was a handful as a teenager. He did his best to clean up after his impromptu parties but I’d find bikini bits and panties in the cushions. I used to wonder if one of those girls was the one. But then one day,”—she paused and gave me a crooked grin—“I found a jockstrap. Water polo players don’t wear jocks so I knew it wasn’t his. I didn’t think much of it until I started finding them regularly…under his bed, under the sofa or balled up with towels in the laundry. Places your straight friends wouldn’t leave their personal effects. I kept a more careful watch but the only guy who was here regularly was Dean Gorman, and I was sure he was straight so I put it out of my mind. So well that I was surprised when he finally told me he was bi.”

I hated that Dean and jockstraps were the details that flashed at me like a neon sign. I shook my head to dislodge my misplaced jealousy, hoping it would help me refocus until Zane returned. How long did it take to make a freaking cup of coffee?

“He was in his twenties, right?” I asked, running my fingers through the condensation on the glass.

“Yes. I thought maybe it was a two-part story and that he’d bring someone special home for me to meet. And secretly, I hoped it was you.”

“You did?”

Wendy reached for my hand and nodded. “You get him. You know where he’s from and how hard he’s worked for a chance to prove himself. You’re nothing alike but you appreciate each other’s differences. And I can tell you adore him. It makes me incredibly happy to welcome you to our tiny family.”

I swallowed around the tears in my throat. “Thank you.”

“So…do you think you’ll have kids some day? You’d both be terrific dads and—”

“Jesus, Ma!” Zane yelped. He set three cups and the carafe of coffee on the table before moving behind her chair to hug her tightly then tickle her sides. She jumped and batted him away, howling with laughter.

I chuckled at their hijinks and braced myself, knowing from experience I was next. When he nuzzled my neck, I was prepared for him to squeeze me a little too hard or put me in a faux headlock and give me a noogie. What I didn’t expect was the tender kiss next to my ear and the softly whispered, “I love you.”

My heart flipped in my chest and expanded, leaving me breathless and drunk on love. I had no idea how I got so lucky, but I knew I’d do anything to always have this in my life.